While making Rockcakes
by Jesagon
Summary: When Rubeus was little, his father taught him to bake. Rating for 'implied writing'.


**While Making Rock-Cakes.**

"Excuse me, I'm looking for a Mr Hagrid, is he in?"

A short man turned around, a surprised look on his face.

"Oh my, I didn't hear the door! I am Ardoctus Hagrid. How may I help you sir?"

"What a relief, I have searched for ages for you, you certainly move around a lot do you?"

"Hah ha, I apologise. Ever since my wife left me with our child I have found it hard to call any lodgings home I'm afraid."

"Ah yes, I am sorry for your loss Mr Hagrid. And how is little Rubeus nowadays?"

"Not so little anymore I'm afraid, heh, he takes after his mother."

"As you know sir, I'm here on behalf of the British ministry of magic…"

"About my son I presume?"

"Indeed, I am sorry, but considering your condition wouldn't it be for the best if we could place him in another home as soon as possible?"

"I thought I had made my decision clear when I sent you those forms?"

"We understand that you want to keep custody for as long as possible but…"

"Dad?"

"Son! Did you have fun during playing time?"

"Umhm.."

"Well, daddy is a little busy right now, why don't you go to the kitchen and prepare some rock-cake dough?"

With a whoop of joy the not so little seven year old boy ran further into the house. Seconds later the sounds of pots banging could be heard.

"With all due respect Mr Hagrid, you have an incurable lethal disease, and at best a few more years with your son. How do you think he will cope when you are gone? Would it not be better to send him to someone who would love him for the rest of his life? A real family?"

"And with all due respect Mr… forgive me, I didn't catch your name, but where would the ministry send him? Correct me if I'm wrong but would you not send him to the nearest colony? Would you not claim that someone like him has no place in our world?"

"But he would be better of! Think of his mother!"

"No, think of his father! Me. And he will stay wit me for as long as I live, and then he will go to Hogwarts, and you can do nothing to stop us."

"I see you will not change you mind then sir."

"Most certainly not."

"Then I do wish you luck. And I hope that your son will have the best future he could possibly have, despite all hinders he will face."

"Thank you good sir and good buy. Perhaps you should try and convince the rest of your government that having giant blood isn't ground for eternal damnation instead?"

"Ha ha ha, I see your point. Sadly, I don't think we'll ever get there."

The man left through the front door, closing it tight behind him as he continued on his way back to the office. As he walked down the rocky road from the small cottage next to the wheat-field he pondered on the strange world he lived in, where the ministry thought that taking children from their parents was for the best and being a half-blood was almost incriminating. He wondered how long it would take them to get this little boy sent to jail just because his mother wasn't human. Maybe he should look into another career? This was just plain depressing.

---

Back inside the house, in the kitchen to be more precise, stood a short man. He watched silently as his son poured some more rocks into the grinder, trying his best to grind it into powder but failing.

"Rubeus, do you remember the recipe?"

"Umhm, the seeds are grinded to flour and then…"

"Right, the seeds. Do you want me to get them for you?"

"No thanks. I thought of a quicker way! I'll take the stones right now so I won't have to later, and I'll be ready sooner!"

"That isn't a bad idea Rubeus, but there isn't any stones in the recipe. So it won't go faster by using them. We'll just do it like this…"

He picked up his wand from the small table his son was seated at, and preceded to transfigure the stones into seeds. Then he let the boy grind them into flour.

Before he poured it into the bowl, he silently switched it for some real flour, after all; making cakes out of stones was a bad idea, and this way his son would be happy thinking rock-cakes contained rocks. No one would ever have to know. Discreetly he emptied the stone-flour into the waste bin and turned back to the cooking-field. There was more to be done.

----

Many years later, Rubeus still believed that rock-cakes were made by transfiguring real rocks into wheat-seeds. He had noticed that his cookies often were a bit hard to chew, but he liked baking them anyway. One of his fondest memories of his father was when the two of them baked rock-cakes together. They were softer though.

**The end.**

Ok, I am sorry everyone that cares, that I didn't bother trying to write some dialect or another… truthfully, I am very unsure of whether or not I could make it believable. My guess would be not, so I didn't try. Hope you don't mind! // Jesagon.

PS: I don't own the rights to certain characters that were borrowed from JKRowling's work…

PPS: I don't know the first name of Hagrid's Father… maybe I'll check it out some day.


End file.
